


Without You

by MelissaA



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 14,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaA/pseuds/MelissaA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Putting together the pieces of the gang's future. (Also, this is a carry-over from tumblr, so the name has nothing to do with the other "Without You" fic on here. It's also pretty great, so check it out!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Still

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally getting to post this here! It's been up on tumblr and fanfiction.net, so it might look familiar. This story is set in a universe where everything happens except Balthazar and Pedro getting together. The chapters will not take place in chronological order, so don’t think you’ve missed anything if chapters don’t match up with the ones before. Also, there’ll be mention of a major character death, so yeah, there’s that warning. Hope everyone enjoys this - I haven't been able to update in a long time, but hopefully my schedule will allow me to add a bit more now!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero can't fight her feelings.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Nothing Much to Do/Much Ado About Nothing.

The end began on sunny day in December. Everyone was relaxing on a huge blanket Ursula brought, and the light breeze that danced over them gave Hero a sense of contentment. Bea and Ben were lying on their stomachs at the edge of the blanket, ripping up grass and dropping it in each other’s hair. They laughed, and Hero felt a lightness in her heart at the knowledge that her cousin and best friend had someone she liked so much. She moved her hand further to the right, searching for the hand she knew would be there. Claudio entwined his fingers with hers and squeezed a bit.

They were still figuring out where they wanted their relationship to go. Sometimes Hero couldn’t hear his voice without remembering him screaming obscenities at her, and Claudio was obviously walking on eggshells every time they were together. But Hero had forgiven him, so she still held his hand, even when she could feel those same hands gripping her wrists and jerking her around.

“You okay?” The question came as a whisper in her ear. She nodded and turned to smile at her boyfriend.

Wanting to alleviate the worry she saw in Claudio’s eyes, Hero added, “I was just thinking how perfect Bea and Ben are for each other.” Claudio just nodded and went back to his previous conversation with Pedro.

After a few more minutes, Balthazar, who had been gracing the group with some of his new songs, put his guitar down. “My fingers are sore.” He pouted a bit at Pedro, and his best friend got an ice cube from the cooler next to him. Pedro picked up Balth’s hand and rubbed the ice over the ends of his fingers. The two smiled at each other in a way that made everyone else in the group look away. Hero watched, though, and she saw a small amount of pain in Balthazar’s eyes as Pedro let go of his hand as the last of the ice melted.

Ben cleared his throat, and the awkwardness dissipated as quickly as it began. After all, Pedro was oblivious to Balth’s feelings, Balth was too shy to share his feelings, and the no one in the group wanted to push the musician, especially after “An Ode” had failed so miserably.

While the ice incident was unfolding, Ursula had pulled a small radio from her bag. As the mother of the group, she always had supplies with her.

Meg grabbed the radio and started pressing buttons. “Let’s listen to some pop!” A collective groan rose from the group, but Meg ignored them happily. “There, now that’s some good music!” This time, no one tried to correct her, but Hero could see Balthazar roll his eyes as what she recognized as “Blank Space” came through the impressively strong speakers. Despite all the amazing things about the musician, he was definitely a music snob, and he let his distaste for all things Top 40 show.

Bea, however, sat up, locked eyes with Hero, and started belting out, “Boys only want love if it’s torture!” On the last word, she mimed stabbing Ben in the heart, and he keeled backwards in obvious agony. Groans and cries of “my heart” were heard from Ben while Bea continued to sing-scream the remaining lyrics. Everyone knew not to interrupt their theatrical moment. It would pass, hopefully.

As Bea ended with, “And I’ll write your name,” and an exaggerated wink at the final *click* sound, the entire group was laughing at her antics. Balthazar clapped and joked, “I think you actually just made that song palatable. Nice job.” Even when he was being sarcastic, the boy always seemed to make it sound genuinely nice. Claudio had once told Hero that Balth was her male counterpart, but she was pretty sure he was a lot nicer than her.

“And now, some new music from Nick Jonas. I just can’t get enough of this song!” The radio DJ seemed a bit too enthusiastic, even by Hero’s standards. She listened to the first few bars of the song, realizing she had never heard it before. It had a nice groove, but she quickly got caught up in a conversation with Bea and Meg. However, the song still lingered in the periphery of Hero’s attention. The group got quiet for a second, a lull that usually would be filled with laughter at how awkward it was. This time, though, the words from the radio could be heard clearly.

_I mean no disrespect. It’s my right to be hellish; I still get jealous._

Hero’s breath caught in her throat for a second, then her hand pulled away from Claudio’s without her even thinking. It had burned her; the hand she had held so many times before, through good and bad, had suddenly felt like red hot agony in hers. Memories from her sixteenth birthday flooded Hero’s mind - memories of Claudo, face contorted in rage, looking like the devil himself. He had been hellish, in that moment. And she knew then that she would never be able to hold that hand again.

Balthazar saved the day by grabbing the radio and switching it off. No one said a word. Beside her, Hero could sense Claudio’s whole body slump. He knew.

“Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I fucking hate Nick Jonas. Such a douchebag, am I right?” Thank God for Ben. Everyone else mumbled and nodded in agreement that Nick Jonas was, in fact, the worst. Ever. Still, no one looked at Hero or Claudio. They all somehow knew it was the end.

 

* * *

Hero closes the photo album that’s resting on her lap. Despite the events that had followed that fateful picnic, Ursula, in her all-knowing way, gave Hero some of the better pictures from the day. The one that had caught her attention this time was an image of her, head thrown back in laughter, as Ben and Bea had a tickle fight in the grass.

God, she misses Bea.

Shaking her head to clear the grip her memories have on her mind, Hero puts the album back on the shelf behind her. Time to dress for dinner with her husband.


	2. Phobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar trumps Pedro's birthday gift.

It was almost done. The project he had been working on for sleepless weeks was finally coming together. With a sigh, Balthazar pushed his chair back from the desk and stretched. He would allow himself a few minutes to relax and unwind - then back to the grindstone.

Balth had exactly eighteen hours till midnight struck, and he was determined to get everything perfect for his friend’s birthday. After all the work he had put into the project, he was afraid he would mess it up in the final hours and have nothing to surprise Pedro with. And after Pedro’s birthday gift to him earlier in the year, failure was not an option. Despite the concert being completely sold out months in advance, his friend had shown up on his doorstep with two Mumford and Sons tickets. The evening had been magical (Balth tried to tell himself Pedro’s presence had only contributed a small amount to his happiness). 

Now, he had a project to get back to. There was no way in hell Pedro was going to beat him at giving presents.

 

* * *

Silence was not quite the reception he was hoping for, but it was most definitely the one he got. 

Balthazar was sitting on the bed next to his friend, laptop perched on his knees so both of them had a good view. He wanted to look at Pedro, but he stared at the carpet instead.

Ten minutes earlier, he had let his friend into the room. 11:50. Now, at 12:05, he was starting to regret all the time he had put into the present. Pedro obviously hated it.  
It had seemed like such a good idea three weeks ago - “Ablutophobia” was Pedro’s favorite song by Sheep, Dog & Wolf, and Balth decided to cover it. He certainly had enough instruments to recreate the sound. Before showing it to his friend, Balthazar had actually been quite pleased with the result. It sounded like him but kept everything that made the song so great: the layering of instruments, the sparse vocals.

Reaching for the laptop to close it seemed to break Pedro from his silence. “That. Was. Amazing. That was… ugh… I can’t even think of the words right now. Can we listen to it again?” Pedro’s hand was on his, keeping him from shutting the computer. 

“So, you liked it?” Balthazar didn’t mean for his voice to come out so small, so unsure. For the first time since he pressed play on the video, he looked at his friend’s face and quickly looked away. The tangle of emotions in Pedro’s eyes confused him. He pressed play again.

Pedro’s head was resting on his shoulder by the end of their fourth viewing. “I think I could listen to that forever.” Balth scoffed. “I mean it, Balthy. I felt the same watching “An Ode.” I mean, how many people are lucky enough to have a best friend who writes and performs music just for them?” Pedro put his hand on Balth’s knee. “This is by far the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.”

“I - I’m glad you like it. Happy Birthday!” They hugged and spent the rest of the night talking about music until they both fell asleep on Balth’s bed.


	3. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben loses her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: sad. You've been warned.

I woke up this morning knowing today was the day. It’s not something I can explain, this knack I have for sensing unfortunate events. I just have it, and I wish I didn’t. 

Now, as I’m sitting in this chair, holding the hand of the only woman I’ve ever loved, I understand what it means to be lost. It doesn’t feel like I’m in a tunnel with no light to guide me, or a huge forest with branches blocking my sight. No, it feels like my senses are turned up all the way, like the lights are on too bright, like I can see everything and everyone around me in excruciating detail. I just can’t manage to give a fuck about any of it.

The nurse’s voice means nothing; the beeping of the various machines means nothing. The only thing that matters is the hand in mine, and it’s limp and pale. A limp, pale lifeline that’s keeping me grounded. I don’t care about anything else. 

So when Ursula comes in, I don’t mind her talking to the nurse. She knows what to say, even though the exhaustion in her eyes is all too apparent. I just sit and hold my lifeline. The nurse leaves with a quick touch to my shoulder, and Ursula’s hand quickly replaces hers. Urs’ hand is so warm, so comforting, and the hand in mine suddenly feels dead. 

I still can’t make myself let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the length - I just don’t write sad stuff very well. The next chapter will be much happier (I think). I guess I should just let everyone know, the Ben/Bea storyline will all be from Ben’s perspective, and it will jump around to different moments in their relationship, so there will definitely be happy Ben/Bea fluff. I’m just pushing myself as a writer to try my hand at some more angsty stuff as well. And there might be another pairing on the horizon…  
> Thank you again for reading! Please like/reblog/whatever if you like this series so far.


	4. On My Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero thinks about their first date.

Hero runs to the front door to answer the incessant knocking, all the while pinning her braids into place around her head. You would think after having the same hairstyle for so long, she would be able to do it in her sleep. But, no, she still struggled with loose hairs and bent pins.

Her husband’s parents were coming in today, and they had seen her with her hair a complete mess; Hero still liked to make a good impression, especially on her mother-in-law. The woman might not be her husband’s real mother, but she definitely had filled in the role well. She had helped Hero through all sorts of situations - a couple of job searches, a false pregnancy, even an identity crisis. What more could one ask for in a mother, much less an in-law?

Her hair is finally in place as she arrives in the front hallway, and Hero opens the door.

______________

Hero opened the door. He stood on the other side, fidgeting with his black button-up shirt, but immediately looked up when he saw her.

“Hey.” He smiled shyly, the right side of his mouth upturned slightly more than the left. It was a quirk about him Hero loved. Not loved, liked. It was too soon for love. It was only their first date for goodness’ sake.

“Hey to you, too! Let me get my coat, and we can head out.” She grabbed her jacket and keys, stepped out onto the porch, and locked the door behind her. “So, where are we going?” Hero had said yes to his offer of a date without questions, and now she had no idea what he had planned.

“You’ll see.” Again, his smile made her heart skip a few beats.

______________

He was driving her back from what she considered a very successful first date when it happened. As far as she could remember, it was the first time she ever heard him laugh - like, full on laugh. He had chuckled before over a stupid joke or a video of someone tripping over a cat or something like that, but this was the first time he let it out completely in front of her.

Music had been playing in the background as they drove. Hero noted his taste was eclectic, but good. As the final strains of Fife and the Drums’ “Soldier On” died out, a familiar driving beat took over.

“Really? Really? You have this song?” He shrugged nonchalantly, but looked embarrassed. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s kind of an amazing song, I just didn’t peg you as a Robyn person.” Love of the song won out over his embarrassment, and he reached over and turned up the music, bobbing his head in time with it. Hero just stared.

As the lead-up to the chorus played, she readied herself for the inevitable. No one was truly able to listen to this song without singing and dancing of some sort, and she was not disappointed.

Like an explosion - “I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her, OH OH OH!” They were both singing at the tops of their lungs, and he pulled over quickly when he realized his dancing might become dangerous. Hero had never danced so hard in a car before. By the end of the impromptu dance party, they were laughing uncontrollably. She almost stopped to watch him in all his hysterical glory, but her own laughter wracked her body until she was doubled over.

______________

“Whelp, that was really fun.” He had walked her to her door, but neither of them really made a move to end the evening.

“Is it wrong that “Dancing On My Own” was my favorite part? I mean, the dinner and everything was great, but that was just, well -” Hero couldn’t help the giggle that escaped just remembering his dancing. And his singing. And his laughing.

He kicked at the wood paneling of the porch before looking her in the eye. Hero had noticed that from the beginning, that he didn’t seem comfortable with eye contact. Hopefully he would get over that around her. “I really enjoyed it, too. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard since this one time Ben and I were hanging out.”

Maintaining eye contact, he leaned forward a bit into her personal space, but she didn’t mind in the slightest.

______________

Hero looks over at her husband as he laughs at a joke his brother just made. He’s learned over the years to laugh at the small things, a skill he attributes to her influence.

Thinking back to when they first met, she should be surprised she can look at him at all. But here she is, smiling at him. Somehow, the laughter has outweighed the tears, and she can’t even feel the scars anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used in this chapter: Dancing On My Own by Robyn; Soldier On by Fife and the Drums (not a real band or a real song, but the Candle Wasters wish someone would write music under the band name, so feel free :) )


	5. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar dances, drinks, and dances some more.

A soft rapping on Balthazar’s bedroom door caught him off guard. He was in the middle of trying to slick his hair down, but it had a mind of its own. The gel he had globbed on it only seemed to add to the wildness.

“Coming!” He hoped his voice had carried enough to keep the person on the other side from barging in. With one last glance in his long closet mirror, Balth moved to the door and opened it. Tony was standing there, and his heart did a little flip.

With a grin, the other boy looked at him. “Wow, you clean up nice, Balthy. And it looks like I got the right color.” Tony opened a small plastic box he had been hiding behind his back. Inside was a beautiful boutonniere with a on off-white rose that went quite well with Balthazar’s dark blue shirt. “Here, let me put it on you. I promise not to stab you with the pin.” He winked, and Balth just knew he was blushing. Tony leant forward to attach the flower. When it was fixed just right, he stepped back and Balth took his hand with confidence he wasn’t even aware he had.

“Better get going. I know my mum is downstairs dying to take some pictures before her little boy gets swept off by Prince Charming.” Balthazar said the last part with a slightly higher voice, mimicking his well-meaning mother, and the two boys laughed as they made their way downstairs.

________________

Balthazar was having an amazing time. Considering the last dance he had gone to was in eighth grade, before he had actually come out, he didn’t have high expectations in the first place. But amazing really was the word for the evening. Tony had danced every song with him: fast, slow, even the horribly in-between ones that everyone just awkwardly moved around to. Whoever had chosen the DJ needed to be fired (it was actually probably a Year 12, so they couldn’t be fired), but still, some of the music was horrendous.

“I’m glad you said yes to coming with me.” Balth had his head resting on Tony’s chest as they danced. Without looking up, he smiled into the fabric of the taller boy’s shirt and let himself be pulled in even closer.

“I’m glad, too. I never really thought I’d be dancing with anyone at a high school dance, much less a boy. There haven’t really been many boys at the school who are publicly out.”

Tony chuckled at that and dropped a kiss on Balthazar’s head. “Balthy, you know, you’re really cute.” Balth was glad his face was still buried in the soft silk shirt, because he was pretty sure his blush had taken over his whole body.

“You’re cute, too. Like, in a manly way. Not in an, aww what a cute kitten, way. But manly, and… yeah.” He thought he had better end his sad little speech there before he ruined the moment more. Tony just chuckled again, and it send a gentle vibration to Balthazar’s cheek.

The song ended, and the boys reluctantly stepped apart.

Tony inclined his head toward the drink table and asked, “What do you want to drink? I’ll bring it to you. Free of charge.” His smile was contagious, and Balth found himself saying something stupid about water, and how he would know if Tony spiked it. Seriously, why on earth would Tony spike water? Maybe it was best to not speak around Tony unless it was necessary. Otherwise, Balth might die from embarrassment at his own stupidity.

As Tony went for drinks, Balth felt a hand rest on his shoulder. “You having a good time, mate?” Pedro was smiling down at him and waggling those ridiculous eyebrows of his. Balthazar was so intoxicated by his previous proximity to Tony that he almost didn’t feel the usual jolt to his heart that came from contact with Pedro. Almost, but not quite.

“Yeah, he’s great, and it’s all just - great! You?” He could see the slight falter in Pedro’s smile before his friend recovered it.

“I’m having a great time, too!” Pedro’s eye’s quickly flickered to the corner where Balth knew Ben and Bea were dancing. Without talking about it, he had quickly picked up on the fact that the football captain still had feelings for the blond girl. He normally would have tried to draw out more from Pedro, but at that moment, Tony walked up with their drinks.

Balth’s friends exchanged nods and quick questions about each other’s evenings before Tony grabbed his hand for the next song. “Talk to you later, Pedro! Gotta get back to burning up the dance floor!” Balthazar did some eyebrow wiggling of his own while fake-shimmying backwards. Pedro grinned and raised his eyebrows in return at the ridiculous dancing. With one last look at his friend, Balth let Tony spin him around and into his arms

________________

 

Balthazar was well into his fourth cup of spiked punch when Pedro found him in the school’s small courtyard. He looked up at the boy crouching in front of him, and the sudden movement of his head made him a bit dizzy. As much as he’d like to believe he could hold his alcohol, Balth knew that two drinks was really his limit.

“Heeeey, Peddy! Watchaaa doin?” His voice was shakier than he would have liked, and the words seemed to slur half-formed from his lips.

“Whoa there. Let’s put that over here…” Pedro caught Balth’s shoulder as he unknowingly tipped slightly and placed his cup of punch on the ground next to the bench he was slumped on. “Where’s Tony? And how did you get like this so fast? I just saw you an hour ago.”

“I-I drank four cups,” Balth held up four fingers - wait, no, only three, but whatever. “And Tony’s somewhere with Cleo. Making out or something.” At least that’s what they were doing when he had caught them.

_________________

After Tony swept him back to the dance floor, Balthazar lost track of how many songs they danced to. Each one melted into the next in a mix of Tony’s smiles, Tony’s laughter, Tony’s hands, Tony’s scent, Tony’s chest. He was so happy. He wasn’t even upset when Cleo tapped Tony on the shoulder and asked to talk to him. Balth knew they had some sort of history, but how could history trump the very real now he and Tony were having. The two walked off through the gym’s double doors to the hallway outside.

“Hey Balth, how’s your night going?” Benedick’s voice startled him. The boy was standing behind him, holding Beatrice’s hand. After a few weeks of trying hard to look like they hated it, the couple had finally embraced hand-holding, and now they did it all the time.

Balth smiled at them both. “It’s actually going really well.” He didn’t trust himself to let on to them just how spectacular it was - he might just jinx the night. “You two definitely have some *ahem* awesome dance moves. Have you thought about going on some sort of competition show or something? You really have a chance at winning.” Ben punched his arm playfully.

“Oi, shut up, Balth. We’re the best dancers in here.” Bea looked at her boyfriend before continuing, “Ya know what, we challenge you and Tony to a dance-off! Go find your boy-toy and bring him back so we can smoke you both.” The couple looked proud of their future victory, and Balthazar didn’t have the heart to tell them that the battle would end in tears and heartache for them. And possibly, knowing Ben’s clumsiness, blood.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll go find him. You just stay here and warm up. Not that it’ll help.” He muttered the last part just loud enough for them to hear. They were both spluttering half-assed comebacks as he left to find Tony.

The hallway outside the gym was empty, and Balth decided to head to the right. Hopefully Tony and Cleo had headed in that direction. He didn’t have his phone on him, so calling his date wasn’t an option. Walking down the school hallways at night was a bit creepy. The only lights that were on in this wing were the emergency lights, and Balthazar started to feel like he was in one of those American killer prom movies. On cue, a light a bit ahead of him flickered. He could feel his heart speeding up, and within a matter of seconds, it was racing. A noise from a classroom to his left made Balth literally jump. Against his better judgement, he crouch-walked awkwardly to the door and slowly peeked through the small window.

What he saw was possibly worse than a masked man with a chainsaw. No, it was definitely worse. He dropped back down before the kissing couple saw him. His heart was now racing for a completely different reason.

_________________

“What the hell do you mean Tony was making out with Cleo? Where’s the bastard?” Pedro was still gripping Balthazar’s shoulder, but his eyes were searching the courtyard as though Tony might be hiding out in one of the bushes.

“I’m not really sure. But don’t be mad at him. You know he loves Cleo. He’s been waiting for her forever.” Balth had come to a realization while drinking his third cup of punch. As happy as he had been with Tony that night, if Pedro had asked him to drop everything and make out with him, Balth would have done it in a heartbeat. Hell, Balth would have dropped everything just to spend a few minutes alone with Pedro.

But here he was, alone with an angry, raging Pedro, and he only felt empty. His first crush besides his best friend ended up being in love, with a girl. Pedro was still hung up on Beatrice. Who else was there for him before he moved away after graduation? However, that was a different matter for a different time.

After a few minutes of talking Pedro down, Balth suggested they go back to the gym and enjoy the rest of the dance. The taller boy began to unfold from his crouched position when Balthazar reached out. Later, he would have no answer for what possessed him, but he pushed a piece of the ever-perfect hair behind Pedro’s ear. Then the punch kicked in again, and he giggled.

“What?” His best friend was looking at him worriedly.

“Nothing. I just like your ears, that’s all.” Balth kept giggling as Pedro shook his head, smiled, and offered him a hand up.

_________________

Tony and Cleo had decided to pull the douche move of going back to the gym to dance, and Balthazar hated the sympathetic looks he got from his friends. Pedro wouldn’t let him have any more punch, and he had also refused to move his steadying hand from around Balth’s shoulders.

“Hey, you know what, I’m gonna head out if you want me to take him on my way.” Ever the angel, Ursula gestured with her car keys in the direction of the doors.

“Nah, I’ve got him. He’s small, but he might be too much for you to carry if he ends up passing out,” Pedro said as he tightened his arm around Balthazar. It was hard for Balth to not melt into his friend’s side.

Ursula left, and the two boys continued to stand at the edge of the gym watching the remaining students dance to music Balth would normally be making snide remarks about to Pedro. He just couldn’t bring himself to care now.

“Okay, everyone, this is the last dance. So grab someone special!” The DJ started a slow song Balthazar wasn’t sure he had heard before. It sounded nice, though.

A squeeze of his shoulder caused him to look at Pedro. “You wanna dance? It is the last one after all.” The taller boy was holding his hand out in an offer Balth couldn’t resist. Their hands fit perfectly together, not that Pedro noticed. He just dragged the musician to the dance floor and held him close. Balthazar closed his eyes and let the music wash over him.

_And when you come close, I just tremble._

__

_And every time, every time you go_

_It's like a knife that cuts right to my soul._

__

_Only love_

_Only love can hurt like this_

_Only love can hurt like this_

_Must have been a deadly kiss_

_Only love can hurt like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really looking forward to being able to write happy stuff, but thanks for hanging in with me through all the angsty stuff!  
> Thanks for reading, and please comment/like/whatever if you’re enjoying the story (or if you have any suggestions).
> 
> And the song at the end is "Only Love Can Hurt Like This" by Paloma Faith.


	6. Trumpets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben gets down to business.

“Sorry, Benedick, but I can’t help with a new song today. Pedro and I are going to a friend’s performance at Grounds - you know, that coffee shop that opened next to Spinning Records. If you had asked yesterday or something…” I can hear Balthazar get distracted by a voice in the background. Probably Pedro. Those two are basically attached at the hip, and poor Balthy definitely wants to be attached at something else if you know what I mean. Heh. Yeah, you know what I mean.

He seems to have forgotten I’m even on the line. “Hey, Balth, it’s no problem. I shouldn’t have too hard of a time writing up something.”

“Yeah, okay, cool. I gotta go. Pedro’s threatening to throw my uke out the window if I don’t pay attention to him now. I swear, he’s basically a two year-old. No, no, Pedro, stop that…” The line goes dead. Whelp, guess I’m writing a song all by myself.

Today is the one month anniversary of my absolutely amazing relationship with the most absolutely amazing girl in the whole world. Of course, I can never tell Bea that. She’d laugh herself to death. And then where would I be?

I sit down at my desk and pull some paper and a pen over. Okay, I’ve written lyrics before, and they were absolutely amazing! I even managed to work “horny” in there (in a super tasteful way, or course). This shouldn’t be too hard. It’s not like I’m expressing my undying love to her. That’s out of the way. Now I just have to let her know how much more in love with her I am now than a month ago. Nope, not hard at all.

_______________

So, it’s been two hours, and my most outstanding line is, “You’re so much better than those other hoes \ You and me make the hottest pair of flamingoes.” Yeah, so it’s not going so well. Maybe I just need to listen to some music for inspiration.

Oooh, what’s new on YouTube?

_______________

Okay, no more YouTube. Ever. It’s a never-ending spiral of - I don’t know what. But seriously, I need a time-turner. I have two hours before Bea’s supposed to get here, and I have nothing. Maybe hoes and flamingoes is the best I can do.

Let’s try this: what do I want to tell Bea? That she’s my soulmate? That she’s really pretty? That I really like her butt? Yep, that one. I really, really like her butt.

So that’s a start. I should find songs that talk about butts.

_______________

I think I’ve got an idea. I’ll just sing this song I found for Bea and add my own flair to it. After practicing it a bit, I’m pretty confident on the lyrics, but I’ll have it on my phone Balthazar style (just in case).

My phone rings. It’s Beatrice. “Hey, babe, what’s going on?”

“I’m at your house. I got done with my homework early. You don’t mind, right?”

“Nah, I think the front door’s open. Just come on up.” Damn. Time to give the performance of my life.

_______________

_“Every time that you get undressed_

_I hear symphonies in my head_

_I wrote this song just looking at you_

_Yeah the drums they swing low_

_And the trumpets they go…”_

I finish the final kazoo trumpeting (as I said, personal flair). Bea is just sitting there, staring. In shock? Horror? Utter lust? I can never really tell what she’s thinking.

“So, um, happy anniversary!” She still hasn’t moved; I step forward to hug her.

Bea puts her hands on my shoulders and keeps me from getting closer. Uh oh, that’s worrying. She looks me in the eyes and whispers, “I really like your butt, too, dickhead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a super hard time writing first-person Benedick, so oops. Thanks to everyone who reads/likes/comments on this story!  
> Song used in this chapter: Trumpets by Jason Derulo


	7. Beep.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar moves (on).

Balthazar threw himself on his new bed. He had yet to put sheets and blankets on it, so he could feel the plush mattress material on his arms. Looking around at his dorm room, he felt a wave of nausea in the pit of his stomach. The walls were blank, absolutely nothing like his walls at home. There were no band posters or pictures of his friends. He had no friends here… No, he needed to stop thinking like that.

 

His parents had dropped him off a few hours ago; after carrying his stuff up to his room and going out to lunch, they had driven off with waves and a teary “Promise me you’ll call every day!” from his mom.

 

Now, lying on his bed, Balth knew this chapter of his life would take more effort than the last. He would have to make new friends, explain to them that he was gay, cross his fingers they wouldn’t desert him.

 

A beep came from his phone. Message from Pedro. Ignore.

 

He didn’t have any cute nickname for his best friend – that would make his fantasies seem real. And they weren’t.

 

Balthazar had decided when he left for college that he also needed to leave the past. He needed to leave his love for Pedro, or at least leave Pedro, even if the love was permanent. He hadn’t said anything to Pedro about his decision, just hung out with him one last time at his house. They had played video games and eaten a lot of pizza and fallen asleep on the couch at 2 a.m. The usual. Pedro had seen him out the next morning with a pat on the shoulder and a sad smile. Not a “I’m never going to see or hear from you again” sad, though. If only he knew.

 

Beep. Another message from Pedro. Ignore.

 

He was planning on falling out of touch with everyone. It would make moving on easier. Of course, he would still talk to Ursula, but that’s because he knew she wouldn’t bring up Pedro, or how happy Bea and Ben were. She would know the boundaries of conversation.

 

The only way Balth could move on in life and potentially fall in love with someone else was if he didn’t have access to Pedro – his face, his voice, news about him. Nothing.

 

Staring around his empty room, Balthazar tried to convince himself it would work.

 

Beep. Ignore.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I don't just write sad things.


	8. I Don't Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero walks in the rain.

The light pattering of rain can be heard on the window as Hero lies on the couch, staring at the ceiling. She’s tired. Really tired. For the life of her, though, she can’t seem to fall asleep. It’s four in the afternoon, and she’s trying to take her usual nap. Luckily, as a freelance graphic designer, Hero has the slight luxury of napping.

With a sigh, Hero turns to her side. It doesn’t help. Neither does the other side. There’s just too much to think about for her brain to shut down.

‘Just close your eyes and listen to the rain, Hero,’ she tells herself. ‘Relax and listen to the rain.’

_______________________

Hero stepped out of the art building into the torrential downpour. She had been working late without realizing that the clear, warm weather from the earlier part of the day had been replaced by bucketloads of rain.

‘Well, I guess I’ll be leaving my bike here.’ Hero didn’t trust herself to ride through the huge puddles in the street without falling off and hurting herself. With no umbrella to protect her head or her bag, she ventured out from under the building’s overhang. She was immediately soaked but had no option of turning back - she couldn’t very well sleep in the art building in her sopping clothes.

“Need an umbrella?” The question startled her, and she spun, hands up in some semblance of self-defense. Her ninja pose was met with his concerned face. Hero laughed in relief and put her hands down.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to sneak up on people at night?” He shrugged and held his large black umbrella over her head so it covered both of them. “What are you doing here this late anyway?”

“Which way do you live?”

Hero tried to not feel exasperated at the lack of answer. “Over on Oak by that gross, little pizza place.”

He turned and started walking in the direction of her apartment, leaving Hero to jog to catch up with him. “I was doing some research for a film project in the fine arts library. You?” Hero knew he was a film major from the few time she had talked to Ben about him. Out of everyone who had made YouTube videos in high school, he was surprisingly the only one to continue. He was such a private person, but apparently airing his feelings and frustrations to a captive online audience actually helped him work through everything. That had led him to becoming a film major. Him being at her university just happened to be chance.

He was still looking at her, waiting for an answer. “Oh, yeah, I was finishing up this 3D project. I’m doing an installation piece made from wire coat hangers, and they’re a lot harder to work with than I thought.” She showed him the scratches on her hand. “I’m done with it. Not actually done, but, you know, checked out. Maybe I’ll just do something with paper.”

“But then you’ll get paper cuts, which are arguably worse. Maybe you should just quit art and go into politics. After all, no one gets hurt there.” Hero laughed. When did he get this sense of humor?

“Yeah, but then I’d have to get used to backstabbing and rumors, and you know how I am with those.” She chuckled. He didn’t. Damn, why did she say that? “I’m sorry, that was really out of line. The first time I’ve seen you in three years, and I go say something -”

He stopped walking and grabbed her shoulder. Hero looked at him and saw pain in his eyes. “Hero Duke, don’t you ever apologize to me. Just don’t. It’s going to take me a lifetime to apologize, so I sure as hell don’t deserve hearing a sorry from you.” He let her shoulder go and kept walking.

When they got to her apartment, they said goodbye, and he made sure she got through her door safely.

The next evening, he showed up in the art building with wire cutters and dinner.

_______________________

Hero wakes to her husband gently shaking her awake.

“Hey, babe, what were you dreaming? You were making your weird happy face.” He looks amused, like he knows exactly what she was dreaming about.

She just smiles when she notices his large black umbrella leaning against the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is this mystery man?? Seriously, though, I hope it's pretty obvious by now :)


	9. Warrior Queen

I met arguably the coolest girl ever today. Her name is Beatrice, and she could kick anyone’s ass. If we were in another universe, she would be a warrior queen who rips out the hearts of her foes and eats them. She would also probably be topless. What? I’m a teenage guy. I get to say stuff like that. 

Beatrice is actually the cousin of this girl Hero who goes to Messina. She’s friends with Pedro, and Pedro and I are sworn brothers. Even though that blood pact didn’t quite go as planned… John is such a party pooper.

Anyway, Beatrice, or Bea, as her friends call her (I think I can consider myself a friend), is super awesome. She likes nerdy stuff like Harry Potter - we spent like two hours “arguing” over who was better: Fred or George. We actually did a lot of that “arguing.” She seems to like banter as much as I do, so that’s cool. Everyone else seemed to get sick of it pretty quick, but whatever. They’re just jealous of our combined wit. Together we, much like Galadriel, are frightening to behold. And the coolest thing is that she actually probably knows who Galadriel is. Nerd power!

Hero also seems pretty cool. I’ve met her a couple times through Pedro, but this was the first time I spent more than a few minutes with her. She’s really sweet. I honestly don’t know how she does it. But more power to her, right?

Now I’m trying to figure out what to do with Bea tomorrow. She’s the first person I’ve met who shares my level of sarcasm, so I feel like I should take advantage of that. Maybe we can go to that weird poetry slam place and laugh at people who can’t snap. How sad would that be to love poetry but not be able to snap. Ugh, almost as bad as never seeing a majestic flamingo in person. The horror! 

I wonder if Bea like flamingos… maybe we can go to the zoo. I bet she’d like that. 

There’s nothing much to do around Messina, but I bet I can come up with some fun stuff for us to do. 

Pedro’s supposed to be working on a history project with this guy he met in class - Bart, Bill, Ba-something. Whatever. He won’t be hanging out with us is the point, and I bet Hero will be baking cupcakes for orphaned hamsters or something. So that just leaves me and Bea. Bea and me. Bea and I? I and Bea? Ugh. Grammar, am I right?


	10. Come Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar muses on his life.

“Don’t forget your uke!” Samantha waved goodbye to Balthazar as he hopped out of her car, instrument in tow. Like he would ever let his uke out of his sight. 

His friend had driven him to and from his usual Saturday gig, and she always reminded him to grab whatever instrument he had with him because she knew Balth would never dream of forgetting one of his precious babies. Apparently, she thought it was really funny and always laughed to herself when she said it. Sam actually laughed at a lot of her own jokes. 

Balth had met Sam at university when he quite literally ran into her on move-in day. Her blonde hair was pulled back in braids around her head, and she immediately made him think of Hero. He quickly learned, however, that her personality was a lot more Ben-ish. Sam talked a lot, and he was happy to let her. 

Now, five years later, they were still friends, best friends in fact. Balth knew everything about her, and she knew everything about him, including his preference for boys. She did not know about Pedro, though. Nothing. He had been careful to never mention his old best friend - hard as it was, it helped him push away the past.

Ursula still called and skyped frequently, but conversations with her were limited to the here and now. What did she do last weekend? How did his band practice go? Every once in a while, she would include some news on their high school friends. She stayed in touch with everyone, like a spider keeping her web of friends together, even if by dangerously thin thread. Hero opened an art studio and moved in with John. Ben and Bea got married while vacationing in Paris and didn’t tell anyone till they got back. Meg started and quit tap dance lessons. Balth often wondered what she told the others about him. “Balthazar’s still living by himself in that dinky studio apartment. His band’s falling apart at the seams, but he’s too afraid to go solo. He’s still desperately in love with Pedro. Basically Balth’s life is simultaneously boring as hell and a complete mess. But, yeah, he’s doing ok. Thanks for asking.”

It was true: Balthazar was alone when he wasn’t hanging out with the few friends who had stuck around after graduation. Everything in his apartment was broken, and the landlord kept hinting that a dinner date might speed up the maintenance process. No one else wanted to date him, though, so he spent his evenings writing music and listening to music. 

His band was a complete mess. During his second year at uni, Balth had met three other guys who fit his musical vibe, and the four of them had started playing at local bars and coffee shops. They had all meshed pretty well at first, but soon they were arguing over whose song lyrics to use or who was accidentally speeding up the tempo. Balthazar was basically done with them, but the idea of performing alone scared the hell out him. 

Sam and Ursula were the only people in whom he confided his fears and regrets. His parents and sister were sweet, but they also kept trying to bring up Pedro - they still didn’t get the hint after five years. Instead, his two best friends would just sit and listen when he really needed to vent. Balth usually talked about the band and his general lack of direction in life, but sometimes he wanted to pour his heart out about his continuing feelings for Pedro. He never did, but Ursula could always tell when his mind strayed to their mutual friend. 

Balthazar wanted to call Ursula after Sam dropped him off, but then remembered that she was having coffee with a new guy who had “potential”. Instead, he turned on Sheep, Dog, and Wolf’s newest album and lounged on his couch.   
________________________

Ursula’s call came as a surprise, breaking through the haze of a mid-afternoon nap. “Beatrice is in the hospital. You need to come home. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one was a bit of a segue to other plot points, and I wasn't feeling very inspired. Hope you enjoyed it anyway.   
> Don't forget to leave Kudos/komments below! (using Ks instead of Cs is kool)


	11. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero has heart-to-heart.

He’s looking at her through the window he’s cleaning, and she half expects him to press his face against the glass at some weird angle. But he just keeps looking, a small smile on his lips. 

Today is cleaning day at the Donaldson/Duke residence, which means Hero is trying to reorganize the kitchen and finding, once again, that there are either too few cabinets or too much stuff. Or a combination of the two. Either way, the Tupperware lids are not appreciating their new home, if their frantic escapes from the drawer are anything to go by.

Hero looks up from her task of stuffing the lids back in and catches the eye of her husband through the glass of the kitchen window.   
___________________

There he was, sitting outside on the big wrap-around porch. The cup in his hand was tipping dangerously, but he rescued it at the last minute. 

Hero had been dragged to this party by a friend from her lithography class who claimed she “needed to find a hot piece of man candy.” So Hero found herself in a huge press of sweaty, dancing bodies, looking for the nearest exit. She had yet to find a “hot piece,” but she had spotted her acquaintance/tentative friend outside.

Pushing through the people around her, Hero fought her way through the back door to the safety of the cold night air. She breathed in. And immediately started coughing. A guy holding a cigarette sheepishly smiled and moved a bit farther from her. 

Hero looked around and saw her friend (was he a friend?), his drink tipping again. 

“Hey, mind if I sit with you?” Her question startled him, and his beer sloshed over the side of the cup. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry, didn’t know you were there.” He looked at Hero through alcohol-hazed eyes and smiled. She couldn’t remember seeing him smile since the picnic in high school. “So, who dragged you to this party?”

Hero chuckled. “I love how you assume someone had to force me to go to a social gathering.” He gave her a ‘I’m calling bullshit’ look. “Ok, ok, my friend Gerald from litho wanted me to find a guy here. He says art can’t be my significant other, but I wholeheartedly disagree. Now that I’ve shared, who dragged you here?”

He took a gulp of beer and winced at the taste. “This is actually my house. I’m renting it with Trent, the guy who’s throwing this thing. He’s an ok guy; we just have very different ideas of fun.” He gestured at the people dancing inside. “I’m more of a ‘stay at home and watch a movie on the couch’ kinda guy. I don’t do well with – well - people.” He shrugged and chugged the rest of his beer. Hero felt a connection with him. She, too, did not do well with too many people. 

“Same, I’m just really good at faking it. Secretly, I can only handle being around a few people at a time.” She felt funny telling him this about herself; she had never really told anyone – some friends picked up on it, others didn’t. Either way, she had been able to keep her bubbly, friendly persona safe. Not that she wasn’t actually friendly or bubbly, but she definitely didn’t feel that way nearly as often as she pretended to. 

He looked at her for a moment, recognizing that what she had told him was important to her. “You know, you could get away with being sad or upset, or even angry, without losing friends. You’re genuinely nice, and it doesn’t hurt that you’re really pretty.” The last part was mumbled, but Hero caught it. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. 

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.”

Silence fell as Hero stared at the fireflies that had come out and her friend stared at his empty cup. 

“Thanks for helping me with my art project the other night. I got an A on it, so, thanks.” She had been surprised when he showed up the evening after he walked her home in the rain. In keeping with his personality, which had not changed much from high school, he had said very little, but his presence had made the whole project a bit less terrible. 

He shrugged again and ducked his head. “I’m still a bit surprised you’re talking to me. I know, I know, you’ve forgiven and forgotten, or whatever, but how are you even sitting here with me?”

“I haven’t forgotten.” The words slipped out of Hero’s mouth without her thinking. But she meant it. Yes, she had forgiven him, but the forgetting part would never happen. “I mean, forgetting isn’t important. I just want to move forward, no matter what’s in our past. I know you never meant to hurt me.” 

He said nothing. 

“Do you want to go to the zoo with me tomorrow? A mother red panda just had babies, and I really want to see them! I could always use some company.”

This time, he turned to look at her instead of his cup. “Red pandas are my favorite animal,” he said quietly, as though he didn’t want anyone else to know he liked such cute animals. “I suppose I’d be up to it. What time?”  
___________________

Hero finishes cramming the Tupperware lids in the drawer next to the stove just as her husband comes back inside the house. He takes off his cleaning gloves and throws them and the Windex on the table.

“The window look so clean, babe. Thanks for doing that – you know I’m too short to reach the top.” Hero smiled up at him.

He leaned down to kiss her forehead and mumbled against her hair, “If a bird flies into it and dies, so help me…”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like you’re Ben.”


	12. Tell You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben says goodbye.

Everyone is here. I wish they weren't - I mean, I love them all, and of course they're all here to support me. I just really don't want support right now. I want to sink as low as I possibly can and just stay there. Why does everyone want to lift me, lighten my load, buoy me up with memories of happier times?

I think Ursula's the only one who really understands. She woke me up from my spot on the couch this morning and guided me to the bathroom. No words. Just a small touch here - eat you breakfast, Ben - or a gentle shove there - get in the car, Ben. She's not obsessed with getting me to talk about my feelings, but, then again, she never has. 

Today, I'm putting my wife in the ground. Maybe I should be crying, but if I let go here, I'll probably end up throwing myself in the ground with her. 

Instead, I stand and listen to the minister say words that Bea wrote out herself. She insisted that nothing cheesy would happen at her funeral; no mentions of heaven needing one more angel or of her being in a better place. "Ben, I want it to be the most kick-ass farewell ever." 

Ursula touches my arm. It's time for me to say something. I step forward, all eyes turning toward me, the poor, miserable husband who lost his wife. The young widower who's burying his soulmate. 

"I met Bea one summer and fell for her immediately. I remember thinking she was like a warrior queen: strong as hell. And boy was she a fighter…" I have a whole speech written out, but I can’t get anymore words to come, no matter how hard I try. 

There’s silence, broken only by my choked-back sobs. 

Balthazar, the mighty, wonderful friend who up and left everything to be with me and Beatrice, stands up and moves to the front of the gathering, ukulele in tow. I’m not sure what’s going on, but it’s taking attention away from me, so I’m grateful. 

“Um, I’m Balthazar, one of Bea and Ben’s friends from high school. Bea loved Ben more than anyone in the world. Even when she was sick, she only cared about making sure he was ok. She asked me to do something special for him, and you all knew Bea - you couldn’t say no to her. So, back when they first got together, they made me help them write love songs for each other, and, um, Bea asked me to perform hers one last time here for everyone. Um, yeah, so here goes.” 

Balth pulls out his phone and fiddles with it for a moment, while I consider making a run for it. Leave it to Bea.

Before I can get away, Balth starts strumming, the familiar chords gluing me to my chair. He keeps going for a couple of measures, and then I hear it. 

Her voice floats from his phone - There’s no way to tell you, how much I like you…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely hated writing this. The next Ben/Bea chapter will be something happy. I swear.


	13. Your Song Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balth on a plane.

Balthazar gripped his armrests as the plane’s wheels touched the tarmac. The flight home from Brighton had been, well, eventful. After finding out he had window seat, Balth had worried he wouldn’t be able to switch with whoever he sat next to. He was a nervous flyer, and he always tried to get an aisle seat. No one had said no to switching with him yet, but what if he was with an equally nervous flyer?

His worries had been unfounded – when he had gotten to his seat, a familiar face had beaten him there. Tony. 

“Oh, hey, let me get out of your – oh, Balthazar! My god, it’s been forever. How are you mate?” After a bit of explaining, Balth found himself in the aisle seat, catching up with an old prom date. 

Tony had been really talkative (and maybe a bit overzealous with the arm touches and knee pats). University had been too boring for him and so had Cleo. So much for soul mates. They had broken up three months after moving in together at university, and Tony had packed up his stuff, leaving his ex to find a new roommate to take on the rent. From there, he had started giving private surf lessons. His business was good, and he got to have sex with plenty of blonde, tan people. Of course, that was the condensed version Balth had taken away from the saga Tony had told him. 

Now, many long hours later, Tony was still going strong, oblivious to Balthazar’s terrified expression and shallow breathing. “Ya know, I saw your friend, what’s his name- whatever, doesn’t matter- anyway, used to see your friend at the bar all the time. You remember that bar a couple blocks from the movie theater? Haven’t seen him in forever though…” As Tony mused over which friend it was, Balth continued to grip his armrests as tightly as possible. The plane was still rolling down the runway. It would stop soon. Of course it would stop. What if it didn’t? What if it crashed? No, pilots are professionals. Everything would be ok.

“You ok, Balthazar? You don’t look so great.” Tony finally noticed his discomfort and touched his knee again, probably in comfort. Possibly to feel him up. But Balth had no energy to think of that. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just-” The plane jolted to a stop, and the pilot’s voice sounded through the cabin, apologizing for the less-than-smooth landing. 

Tony helped Balth get his carry-on out of the overhead compartment when they got the go-ahead to leave the plane. The walk to the baggage claim was filled with more talk from the surfer about his business and how Balthazar would probably be good at surfing. When they reached their destination, Balthazar looked around for Ursula. She said she would pick him up at Claim D, but before he could look too much, Tony touched his shoulder and said, “It was pretty cool running into you, Balth. Maybe we can catch up again over coffee or dinner or something.”

“Sure, that would be fun.” The two were about to exchange numbers when Tony pointed behind Balth. 

“Hey, it’s your friend I said I always saw at the bar. What’s his name?” Balthazar turned quickly at “his.” Ursula wasn’t a guy. But Pedro was.

He was standing, holding a sign reading, “BALTH,” and staring right at them. 

Balthazar’s heart dropped.

___________________________________

Balthazar watched quietly as Pedro heaved his luggage into the bed of his truck. Silence seemed to be the name of the game.

Not much had been said when he and Pedro were reunited in the airport. His friend (ex-friend?) had said the proper hellos and nodded to Tony, but he didn’t seem too keen on conversation. “Ursula said something came up last minute and asked me to pick you up instead. Since I have a truck that’ll fit all your shit, you know?” Pedro had then grabbed “all Balth’s shit” from the carousel while Balthazar traded numbers with Tony. The two had parted with a hug, promising to stay in touch. Maybe a bit too much touch on Tony’s part, since his hand kept finding excuses to rest on Balth’s arm or shoulder or lower back. 

Pedro had then herded him out the door, luggage in tow. 

They were now climbing into the truck, and Balthazar had no idea where to start. “So, you still have the truck.” No duh. Two seconds around the other guy had him saying the stupidest things. 

“Yeah.” Pedro started the truck and plugged in his phone. Music filled the cabin, and when Balth opened his mouth to say something, the music was turned up. 

The rest of the trip to his house was spent in silence. Balth wanted to take in the sights of his old home – the old shops, the new shops, the school, the park – but couldn’t because Pedro felt like a dark, heavy cloud beside him, and he couldn’t think of anything else. Just as he was about to try starting another conversation, the music playing switched to a quiet song. A familiar song. Really familiar, in fact. 

“Is this my song?” Balth knew it was but asked anyway. Pedro hit the “off” button on his stereo, and the truck was worse than silent.

The song was one that Balthazar and his band had recorded a few months before they broke up. It was about getting over unrequited love. Surprise. What did surprise him, though, was that Pedro had the song on his phone. Ursula was the only one he had given a copy to, which meant… damn it, Ursula.


	14. Your Song Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar learns the truth.

“What did you say to him, Balth? He seemed really upset.” Balthazar had to lean away from the phone a bit. Ursula actually sounded a bit mad – it was her tone more than her volume that made him wince.

 

“Nothing, we didn’t talk, like, at all, the entire ride home. I tried, but he turned up the music really loud. Kinda a nonverbal ‘fuck off.’”

 

Ursula sighed. “Well, then what did you do? He was really excited when he left to get you. I mean, hell, he volunteered to go before I could finish telling him I couldn’t.” Interesting, Pedro had made it seem like Ursula strong-armed him into it. Why would he lie about that? “Tell me exactly what happened from the beginning.”

 

“Um, well, I got to the baggage claim with Tony, and-”

 

“Wait,” Ursula cut him off, “Why was Tony there?” She didn’t let Balthazar answer. “No wonder Pedro was upset. He hates Tony. Were you being friendly with Tony or just walking with him?”

 

Finally, a pause for him to answer. “Tony and I actually sat next to each other on the plane – unplanned, of course. And, yes, I was being friendly with him. I mean, we are friends. Also, why would Pedro hate Tony? I thought they got along.”

 

“Pedro’s hated Tony since our senior dance, remember? You know, when he basically jilted you for Cleo? Anyway, now I definitely get why Pedro seemed pissed off. His first time seeing you in five years, and you’re chatting it up with some guy he hates.”

 

Balthazar had never heard Ursula sound so judgmental. “Hey, last time I checked, I’m allowed to be friendly to whoever I want. And whose side are you on anyway? Since when were you all ‘Team Pedro’?” It really bothered him that his best friend was already laying into him before they even saw each other.

 

“Ok, you’re right. This isn’t fair to you. You don’t really know the circumstances. Look, there’s some stuff I need to tell you in person. Can you meet for coffee in about an hour?”

_____________________

 

The first thing Ursula did when she saw him was pull him into a huge hug. “I’m sorry I got upset earlier. You’re back for the first time in years, and I yell at you. I’m really glad you’re here, you know. I’ve missed you.” Balthazar hugged back. Skype calls and texting were definitely not the same as seeing Ursula in person. How had he survived so long without seeing her?

 

After getting their coffee and claiming a table, the two friends jumped right into the ‘Pedro issue’ as Balthazar dubbed it. “So, what do you need to tell me about him? It seemed kinda serious on the phone.”

 

“Well, you’ve had your ban on all things Pedro, so I wanted to respect that and not say anything, but it’s been really hard. He hasn’t been doing too well since you left. Actually, he’s been a complete disaster.”

 

“But it’s been five years. And it’s not like he was the one who was madly in love.”

 

“Yeah, it’s been five years, but are you over him?” Ursula raised her eyebrows when Balth refused to answer. “He might not be in love with you, but you were his best friend. Sure, he has Ben and Bea and the others, but you were his _best_ friend. And you just up and left. Disappeared.” Balthazar tried to interject with some sort of defense, but Ursula held up a hand. “I get why you did it. You needed a break so you wouldn’t, well, break, but Pedro didn’t know that. He went from seeing you and hearing from you everyday to being completely cut off.”

 

Balthazar sat and thought it over while Ursula sipped on her coffee. He had known from the start that it wasn’t fair to Pedro, but no one else had said it to him. “You said he hasn’t been doing well. What did you mean by that?”

 

After a pause, “You know Pedro was always a bit of a drinker. Life of the party, all that. Well, the drinking part got a bit worse, and the life of the party part became pretty nonexistent.” Another pause. “Balth, he’s an alcoholic. It wasn’t just you leaving. This isn’t on you. It was all the change – his scholarship falling through, friends leaving, basically having no direction in life – it just kind of pushed him over the edge a bit. I mean, he’s been getting better. His parents got him to see someone about it, and he isn’t drinking anymore, but it’s still there. He says it always will be.”

 

Balth felt sick. Pedro, his best friend, the love of his life, had been dealing with this shit for five years, and he, being ridiculously selfish, had blocked him out completely. Ursula had been quick to keep him from blaming himself, but how was he supposed to believe he wasn’t a big factor in this? “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean… I’m sorry, that isn’t fair to you. I said ‘no Pedro news’, and you were just respecting that. But, why didn’t anyone tell me?”

 

Ursula swirled her coffee around in its cup for a moment before answering. It was obvious she was trying to figure out how to phrase something. “I think everyone understood why you left like that. No one wanted… everyone knew you loved him.”

 

“Everyone?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh.” He let that sink in. “Did Pedro know?” Please, no. Please.

 

“You know Pedro. He’s oblivious to basically everything. He’s gotten better about it, but no, he had no clue.” Thank the gods.

 

The two sat in silence for a while, drinking their luke-warm coffee.

 

Then it hit Balthazar. “What the hell am I doing, thinking about this right now? I should be with Bea. I let her know I’d be coming in today.” That seemed to wake Ursula from her reverie.

 

“Of course, I’ll take you to see her now if you want. She’s pretty lively most of the time.”

 

“So, basically normal Bea?”

 

“Yup. She’s still in fighting form. Yesterday, she and Ben argued for half an hour about flamingoes.” Balth’s face must have shown his disbelief. “Yeah, that flamingo thing is still going. And Ben is just trying to keep things normal. You know how they’ve always loved their little fights. I think it’s actually encouraging to Ben; like, if she can hold her own in an argument, she’s still ok.”

 

Balth asked after a beat, “But how is she really doing, Urs? I need you to be honest with me.”

 

She shook her head. “Not good, Balth. She and Ben are holding it together, but it’s really not good. I probably wouldn’t have called you home if it wasn’t so bad.”

 

Ursula could always be trusted to be honest, even when it was hard. Balthazar’s heart sank.


	15. Having My Baby Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero breaks the news.

It’s official. She’s pregnant. Walking out of the doctor’s office, people smile at her, and she can’t help but think they all know, that the smiles are all congratulatory. Hero knew she was pregnant before coming here, but she wanted the affirmation of a trained professional. And now she has it. After all, seven different at-home pregnancy tests spread out over a few days can still return a false positive. But now it’s a very real, very official positive. 

John won’t be home for a few more hours, so Hero takes her time driving. She’s been avoiding telling him about her seven-test hunch, but now she can’t wait to let him know. She can’t really imagine his reaction, but hopefully it’ll be good.

Hero turns off the radio after a few minutes of channels surfing - no one’s playing anything that fits her mood. Are there even any songs that say, “I’m having a baby, and I’m so excited I could burst, and I’m so terrified I could burst? Probably not. People don’t seem to write about stuff like that. 

Hero finds herself watching children run around from a hard, uncomfortable park bench. She can’t help but think that someday soon, she’ll be watching her own kid run around, and the benches will probably be just as hard and uncomfortable. 

“Which one is yours? Mine’s the one in the green shirt trying to topple the dinosaur statue.” A woman sits next to Hero, sighing as she takes the weight off her feet. Her hands are resting on a sizable baby bump, and she looks at Hero expectantly. 

“Oh, I don’t have one. Yet.” Is it weird to be here without a kid? Yeah, definitely. She clarifies, “I just found out I’m pregnant. Well, I took an at-home test a few days ago, but now I know for sure.”

“And by 'an at-home test’ you mean a million. I was the same way. My name’s Janice, by the way.” Janice holds out her hand, and Hero shakes it with a smile. Her first mom friend!

“Hero. What’s your son’s name?” She looks over to where the boy is playing with a couple of other kids. 

Janice smiles at her son for a moment before responding. “Jonathan. His father named him. He just turned five, and his first birthday declaration was that everyone call him by his full name, not Jon, under threat of merciless tickling. I’d like to say I don’t know where he gets his attitude from, but I’d be lying.” Her smirk makes it clear she’s not sorry. The honesty makes Hero like her even more… a lot like Bea. 

The two women watch the children run around for a while. Hero can faintly make out what they're saying to each other. At one point, Jonathan pulls out his fingers in a gun shape and makes loud ‘pew pew’ noises. “I got you with my phaser, Sam! You're incapacitated.” Sam, a girl in a red checkered shirt, puts up a fuss - why does she have to be the first one out. “Sam, the red shirt always get killed or stunned first. It’s the rules.” Jon’s logic is sound, so the game continues. 

An hour passes like that, with Hero and Janice talking over the yelling and laughter of the kids. When she checks her phone and sees how much time has gone, Hero trades contact info with her new friend and heads home.

The drive to her house gives Hero time to think of how to tell John about the baby. Perhaps a banner? No, John isn’t the banner type. Maybe she could just tell he outright, no frills. She wants it to be special, though.

___________________

Hero waited by the door, expecting John to come home any minute. She wasn’t sure how she would tell him she was pregnant. They had only been dating a year, and while that year brought them closer than they thought possible, it was still pretty early on to be having a baby together.

The turning of the doorknob brought Hero back to attention. John was home! 

He came through the door, the look on his face alerting Hero to his mood. “Bad day?”

She just got a grunt in reply. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?” 

John walked to the couch and threw himself down in a rare dramatic fit. “David screwed me over. Turns out the investor he was talking to about funding our film is now funding his film. Apparently David’s been working on a secret project behind my back, and he’s been getting all our potential investors in on his film. I basically have no funding, no partner, and everything’s fucked.” 

“Oh.” Here didn’t know what else to say. She sat next to her boyfriend and put a hand on his shoulder. There wasn’t much else she could do. This was obviously not a good time to tell him about the baby. “Well, I made dinner if you want some. It’s actually you’re favorite - lasagna.” 

With a semi-interested grunt, John stood up and made his way to the dining room. It was actually more of an extension of their tiny kitchen, but Hero tried to make it as dining room-esque as possible. The table was set with their best dishes, and the lasagna was sitting in the middle, probably lukewarm by then. 

“It looks good, Hero. Thanks. After everything today, this is really nice.” John and Hero sat, serving each other portions of lasagna and salad. They ate in relative silence, John occasionally making noises to let Hero know he appreciated the food. After they had finished, he took the plates to the sink to wash them. “So, any particular reason for the dinner, or just wanted to cook something nice?”

“Um, I actually have something to tell you.” Hero watched her boyfriend pick up one of the knives and run it under the water. “Maybe you should come sit down.” No point in him accidentally cutting himself. 

John put the knife down carefully and said, “Alright. Anything I should be worried about?”

Now that she had his full attention, Hero wasn’t exactly sure how she should break the news. All her perfectly planned words flew out the window, leaving her to grasp at straws. “I, well, you know that you mean a lot to me, and this relationship means a lot to me. And, I guess what I’m trying to say is-“ Hero searched for words that actually fit the gravity of the situation. “Well, I’m pregnant.” So much for saying it nicely. 

The silence that hung between the two seemed to last for ages before John walked quickly past her and out the front door. 

______________

Sorry to leave off there. I just wanted to post something - I had to rewrite the beginning not once, but twice, because my computer is a piece of crap, so I didn’t get to update as soon as I’d like.

Let me know if you have anything you want me to work into the story. I love challenges!


	16. Having My Baby Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero breaks the news. John almost breaks a tooth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in FOREVER. A whole slew of things have kept me from writing, but I am back now!

Hero was woken up by movement on the bed next to her. “John?” His familiar hand came to rest on her hip and pulled her closer to him.

Neither of them said anything more for a few minutes, but Hero could feel John trying to control his breathing. It was something he did whenever he was stressed - four seconds in, four seconds hold, four seconds out. She could feel every four seconds out on the back of her neck, reminding her that John was still there.

“I - I’m sorry I left like that. I know it was literally the last thing you needed. I just couldn’t… I mean -” Hero grabbed John’s hand, effectively stopping his broken apology. Turning toward her boyfriend (a bit awkwardly because their bed was so tiny), Hero tried to think what she should say. She could yell at him, but she knew that it wouldn’t help anything. And it probably wouldn’t be too awesome for the baby. The baby that was inside her. The baby that John probably didn’t want. Damn it.

Lifting a hand to John’s face, Hero smoothed the crease between his eyes with her thumb. He was always so worried, so stressed. “John, I get it. It was too sudden. I get that it wasn’t a good time. You’re going through all this stuff at work and -” This time, it was John’s turn to interrupt her. He kissed her and then kissed her again. A third time for good measure.

“What I’m going through at work is nothing compared to finding out you’re carrying a baby inside you.” True. He paused. “You know my relationship with my dad has never been great. Hell, I didn’t even really get to know him growing up. I don’t exactly know what a dad does. And,” here, his voice broke, and he looked into the darkness over Hero’s shoulder. “And, you know about my issues. All my many, many issues. I mean, how am I supposed to raise a kid when I can barely get out of bed sometimes. I know it’s been better lately with the new meds, but what if they stop working and…” Hero could feel wetness on John’s face and pulled him close so their foreheads were touching. There would be time for more words later.

The sobs came then. She held him as he fell apart, both of them knowing she would be there in the morning to put him back together.

____________________________

Hero greets John at the door when he walks in. He looks tired, but he smiles at her. It’s the relieved smile he reserves for her when he sees her after a long day. She probably has a similar smile just for him.

“Hey Wonder Woman, how’s it going?” Somewhere over the years he’s taken to calling her different superhero names. He’s not much for typical cutesy pet names, but he insists that superheroes are too badass for it be cute. Hero’s personal favorite is Batgirl, since it’s usually reserved for special occasions.

She takes John’s bag as he slips out of his shoes. “Not bad, just did some painting. The usual.” Went to the doctor. Found out I’m having a baby. Made friends with a sarcastic pregnant lady while watching her kid phaser other unfortunate kids in a park. The usual. “What about you? How was Fred’s acting today?”

“Less drunk than yesterday, but still pretty horrible. When is it acceptable to tell a friend that he’s fired?” John’s voice holds a bit of humor, but mostly frustration. “He really needs to get his shit together.” They both know he won’t fire Fred. After the whole thing with Pedro, John isn’t very judgmental. Fred was also one of the only people to believe in John’s dream of directing a movie two years ago when he started working on the project. “Other than that, everything went surprisingly well. We were actually able to get that shot through the trees on Kirk Hill.”

“That’s great! I know you’ve been wanting that one for a while.” Getting lighting just right is always difficult. “Are you hungry? Dinner should be done soon.”

“Wait, like an actual dinner? That you cooked?” Hero punches John’s shoulder, but he just grins back.

Hero rolls her eyes as she guides him to the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah, keep going and you might just have to get takeout.” The timer goes off on her phone, and she tosses John a couple of oven mitts. “Go ahead and take it out for me, yeah? I’ll get our drinks.” A beer for him, water for her.

He pulls open the oven door and inhales. “Lasagna! It’s been forever.” He freezes then for a moment, and Hero can tell he’s thinking about that time five years ago. They both think about it every time she makes lasagna. Shaking his head minutely, John retrieves the pan at sets it out to cool. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to make something nice. I finished my project and had some time.” Lies, so many lies. But he didn’t need to know that right now.

With a calculating look, John concedes, “Alright, well thank you. It looks beyond nice. Hand me some plates?”

The two settle down at the dining table with dishes piled high lasagna and salad. John closes his eyes as he chews his first bite, and Hero can’t help but smile. It can’t be that good, but her husband never holds back the compliment on her cooking. His mom never cooked for him, so he doesn’t take it for granted when Hero does.

They talk about different things: John’s movie, Hero’s garden, their niece’s school recital that Pedro is beyond excited for them all to go to (“How many times will everyone get to see my little girl play the Dr. Who theme on the recorder?”).

“Shit, ow! What the hell was that?” John holds a hand to the side of his mouth and winces. He spits out something and watches as it lands on the table with a tiny thunk. Hero watches, too, breath held in fear and excitement. Her husband pokes at it - flesh-colored, hard, baby-shaped. “Is this - did you - baby?” He looks at her for some sort of explanation.

Hero shrugs and says as nonchalantly as possible, “I might have been lying when I said I cooked for no reason. Do you know how hard it is to sneak a tiny plastic baby into takeout?” She looks down at her plate, finding it hard to pretend she isn’t shaking.

Her husband’s familiar, comforting hand lands on her own. Hero glances up to find John staring at her. Smiling. He’s smiling!

“So, either it’s Mardi Gras a few months late, or you’re trying to tell me something. I’m guessing it’s the latter.” A small nod from Hero. “Batgirl, are we having a baby?” The hope in his voice, in his eyes, is too much for Hero.

“I found out today. I went to the doctor and everything. I even met a pregnant lady and a kid with a phaser-thing.” By now, Hero is crying, and John is walking to her side of the table. He kneels in front of her.

Chuckling, he mutters, “I don’t know anything about phaser-things, but I do know this is the best news I’ve heard in my entire life.”

The sincerity with which John says it makes Hero cry more. She’s pulled into a warm, strong hug, and she knows they’re going to be ok.


	17. Kiss With a Fist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben faces the monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is super short, but I had no idea what I wanted to write for Ben. To keep the order of the story, I just drew some inspiration from the newest VOX POPS 2 video.

“Claudio, she’s hitting me!” My plaintive cry falls on deaf ears. Ursula and Hero are filming and pointedly not looking at me and Beatrice. Claudio is busy staring at the two girls. They’ll all be sorry for ignoring me when I’m lying on the ground in a bloody pulp. Damn Beatrice and her surprisingly strong arms. 

I turn my thoughts back to the fight, and I start slapping until I gain the upper hand. Haha! I victoriously drive the beast back with my Herculean strength and the ferocity of a warrior. That’ll show her. 

She stops fighting to catch her breath. Guess we know who the victor is then. Me! This guy! I turn to Claudio, expecting a thumbs up or congratulatory hug for my success. He’s still staring at Hero and Ursula. What’s so interesting about them? I just vanquished a blight on the face of humanity. 

“Gah!” Beatrice hits me while my back is turned. Typical, Just so typical. She strikes again. Alright, time to end this.

I shove her once. Twice. Right in the boobs… Today is the day I might die. Right here, right now. I doubt all these witnesses will stop Beatrice from lobbing my head off with a karate chop. 

Instead, she just laughs and runs farther away. She’s laughing. Why? I just touched (shoved) her boobs. Where’s the righteous anger?

But god, she’s beautiful when she laughs.

I follow her. Can’t let the enemy get away.


	18. Always on My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar faces the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Nothing Much to Do/Much Ado About Nothing.

The drive home from the hospital was filled noise from the radio. The DJ and his guest laughed and joked, and Balthazar wanted nothing more than to reach through the car’s console and throttle them till they shut up.  
Ursula seemed to sense his anger and turned off the radio. She made no attempt at conversation.  
They drove in silence until Balthazar couldn’t handle it anymore. “She’s terrible, Ursula. When you said she wasn’t doing well, I thought - I don’t know what I thought - but it sure as hell wasn’t that. The tubes and the beeping and the fake smiles. How did this happen?” He stopped for breath. That was a stupid question. It happened the way stage four breast cancer always happens. Without thought, feeling, or humanity.  
“I’m sorry.” Why was she apologizing? She didn’t do this to Bea and Ben. “I should have prepared you better. I’ve gotten so used to it.” The heaviness in her voice didn’t make Balth feel any better.  
When they had walked into the hospital, Ursula had gone up to the nurse on duty at the desk, said something with a small smile, and led Balthazar down hallways she seemed far too familiar with. With the same familiarity, she walked into Bea’s room and took a seat by her bed.  
She had held Bea’s hand and made small talk, like her friend wasn’t lying in a bed with wires and tubes stretching from her body. She had shared glances with Ben and known exactly when to go and get water for Bea.  
When Ursula had said she visited Bea everyday, she really meant she had been her nurse. It made Balthazar wonder who was taking care of _her_.  
Before he could contemplate the matter, Ursula pulled up to the curb in front of his house.  
“Looks like you have a visitor.” A nod of her head had Balthazar looking toward his house. The familiar figure on his porch wiped thoughts of the hospital from his head. Pedro.  
______________________  
“So, how’re you settling in. I mean, all two seconds you’ve been back…” Pedro scratched the back of his head, the familiar action pulling on Balth’s heart. This was clearly the same Pedro he left years before, but - was he?  
“Ursula took me to see Bea. She was doing well.” Lies. “Well, not really, but you know.”  
Pedro looked up at the mention of Beatrice; Balthazar could see pain in his eyes. Everyone here had been carrying that pain while he lived it up at uni. The weight of his selfishness hit him again. Damn.  
“Yeah, she’s holding it together pretty well considering.” Pedro didn’t seem too convinced by his own words. At some point, they would both have to stop lying.  
Silence fell - this time it was worse than in the truck. Pedro wasn’t mad, but now they were both thinking about their sick friend.  
“Ursula gave me your song a few months ago when I asked her about your music.” Oh. Well that was one question answered. “It’s really good. I mean, not that I’m surprised. Your stuff is always good. But, I mean, the lyrics were great. I’ll never understand where you get your inspiration from.” Seriously, Pedro? Where could Balth possibly get his inspiration for a song about unrequited love? Obviously not from his ex-best friend. Nope. Not at all.  
“Ah, it just comes to me sometimes. No big deal.” Cool, yeah, play it cool. “You asked about my music?” Okay, there goes the cool.  
Pedro paused to kick at a rock. “Yeah, I ask about it all the time. I ask about _you_ all the time.” He looked at Balth and tilted his head. “Do you ever ask Urs about me?”


End file.
